Dying Young
by Sarahjane
Summary: When Trip dies, what will his family do without him?
1. Dying Young

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, they all belong to Star Trek: Enterprise and are used here without permission for no personal gain.   
  
Author's Note: Maybe this should go in the disclaimer. I'm not sure. I got this idea from a line from Infinite Diversity by Starbaby. By the way, if you are reading this, I loved your story. I hope you are not mad that I used your fic for inspiration. Anyway, everyone please r/r.   
  
Dying Young   
  
It wasn't fair.   
  
T'Pol was startled by the illogical...human sentiment that flashed across her mind. But of course it wasn't fair. How could this be happening? She could still remember perfectly the day that she had first met him. Could that really have been 20 years ago? It seemed like yesterday.   
  
And now he was dying. Of course she had known that this day would come. Humans had such short lives; they existed in only short, vibrant bursts. Her husband was the perfect example of that, after all. From the moment she had first met him, she had been struck by his loud, spontaneous personality. Most Vulcans would consider him immature, impetuous, and irresponsible (and she had to admit that had been her initial assessment of him), but she saw him as simply having a deep, passionate relationship with love. He lived fully and deeply, as though trying to make sure that no day passed in which he did not truly live.   
  
That was in stark contrast to his condition now. He lay on the hospital bed limply. His eyes were closed. Only the monitors above reassured her that he was not dead yet. She had long ago lost the powerful mental connection that they had formed during her first Pon far years ago. Now when she reached out for him, she felt nothing.   
  
She closed her eyes and replayed the last few months. One morning he had simply not woken up no matter how hard she shook him. He had always been a very serious sleeper, but she began to worry when he refused to wake up after many minutes. She had tried to calm her fears by feeling for him through their psychic bond but had only become more afraid when she was unable to sense his presence. Finally she had called an ambulance. At the hospital they told her that he had a serious neurological condition that had resulted in the shutdown of many sections of his brain. Although he was not brain dead yet, he was in a coma. He was unable to eat, drink, open his eyes, or even breathe. Only the machines kept him alive.   
  
She heard footsteps coming down the hall. Someone else was coming to sit with him now. T'Pol stood up and walked towards the door.   
  
"Good bye Trip," she said.   
  
But there was no answer.   
  
*****   
  
Outside the air was crisp and cool. She would have preferred to remain with her husband, but Captain Archer had insisted that she "take a break." "You've been here day and night," he had said. "Some fresh air will do you good."   
  
She reflected on how much the former crew of the Enterprise was helping her. Jonathon had constantly looked out for her, making sure that she remembered to eat and got at least a few hours of sleep every night. Hoshi, Travis, and Malcolm had volunteered to take turns watching their two children, 18-year-old T'Lara (Lauren to most people) and 11-year-old Ston who insisted on being called Stephen.   
  
To be honest, she did not know how she could face them. They obviously preferred their father and the human world to their mother and the strict, Vulcan society. She really couldn't blame them. Trip had such a strong personality. She wasn't really surprised that they were as passionate and emotional as their father, rejecting only the most basic elements of the Vulcan philosophy that she had tried to teach them. She could not imagine how the three of them could even begin to live as a family once Trip was gone. He had been the glue that had held everything together. Without him, their family would fall like those houses made of playing cards that Trip and Stephen loved to build.   
  
As terrible as it sounded, she wished that they weren't a family. She wished that she had never gotten involved with Trip. It had been such a foolish decision. She could never have dreamed how much his love would change her. Slowly, stubbornly, he had broken down her Vulcan shields so that now she was unable to protect herself from the immense pain that she felt.   
  
Why had she ever gotten involved with him? Even though she could not imagine that being with him would make her lose much of her Vulcan training, she did know that he would die before she did. Humans lived their lives as best as they could, living deeply and fully, and then died so quickly. Vulcans, in contrast, lived long, serene, controlled lives.   
  
She wasn't sure which one was better. Before she would have immediately answered that it is better to live a long life than a short, passionate one, but now...Trip had showed her the joy in all the little things that made life good--the smile of their children, a laugh, a good-night kiss, the touch of your lover's hand on your bare skin...   
  
'But we had only 20 years!' she thought angrily. 20 years of laughing, arguing, and loving. Most Vulcan marriages lasted at least five, maybe ten times that long.   
  
She remembered one morning shortly after the fires of Pon far were gone and the two of them no longer burned with uncontrollable desire. She had awoken in a cold sweat, shaking violently.   
  
"What's wrong?" Trip had asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes like a child.   
  
She had struggled to control her voice before responding, "You should leave."   
  
"Why? What's wrong?" His arms wrapped around her, but she just shrugged them off. "T'Pol...please...I love you."   
  
"It was wrong for me to become involved with you."   
  
He had grinned then, that damned cocky grin that somehow always managed to get under her skin. "It's a little late for that, don't you think? You're having my baby."   
  
"I don't want you to be involved in the child's life."   
  
The smile had faded. "What do you mean? You can't stop me from taking care of my kid."   
  
"I will raise the child myself. I do not need your help."   
  
"That baby's gonna be half-human, don't forget that."   
  
"I will raise the child as a Vulcan. With training, he or she will learn to overcome that burden."   
  
"T'Pol, please. I love you." He gently brushed his lips against hers. He liked to kiss her, although she wasn't quite sure why. She had once told him that kissing was illogical only to have him laugh a little and say, "Hey, I'm not expecting you to kiss me back. But I like kissing you. It's how I tell you that I love you."   
  
She felt herself go limp under his strong, gentle touch. "Humans die very young," she whispered. "It is illogical for us to become involved since it cannot last for very long."   
  
"Is that what you're worried about? That I'll die?" The smile was back, but this one was not the cocky grin that most people saw. This one was much sweeter and gentler. "T'Pol...you know, there aren't any guarantees. Yeah, Vulcans have a better track record, but...hell, either one of us could die tomorrow! There's no way to predict that."   
  
"Exactly..." she began, but he interrupted her.   
  
"T'Pol, I can't promise you that I'll always be here with you. Hell, you can't promise that you'll always be here with me. But none of that matters. All that does is that I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want to go to bed with you every night." He kissed her again. "I love you, T'Pol, and nothing you can say will make me change my mind."   
  
T'Pol opened her eyes. He had wooed her with those sweet words, but they were just words. The nightmare that she had had was coming true--he was dying far too young and there was nothing she could do.   
  
She closed her eyes again. Trip had always been so sweet to her and their children. She recalled a thousand moments: falling into bed, burning with the fever of Pon far; his gentle kisses on her neck; his tongue running over the edge of her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine; his peaceful, childlike face while he slept beside her; and his endless promise that he repeated over and over--"I love you."   
  
She had never been sure why he said that so much. "I just want you to always remember it," he had told her. "I never want you to doubt for a second that I love you." But it bothered her. She had never been able to repeat it, never been able to even kiss him back. Had he known how much she loved him even though she had been unable to find the words? Did he know now?   
  
A drop of water fell onto her leg. She looked up, but the sky was a clear, brilliant blue. Startled, she realized that she was crying.   
  
"Trip, I love you," she whispered but there was no answer.   
  
*****   
  
She returned to the hospital at exactly 10:00. "Thank you for your assistance, Jonathon."   
  
"No problem, T'Pol." He stood up, but didn't leave. "Would you like me to stay with you tonight?"   
  
"No, I will be fine."   
  
"All right. What about the kids?"   
  
"They are staying with Hoshi tonight."   
  
"Great. Well, if you need anything, let me know, okay?"   
  
"I will. Thank you."   
  
Once he was gone, she sat down in the chair next to his bed. He looked so much older. His hair was gray, and his face no longer looked as boyish. And yet she knew that she was almost unchanged from that day 20 years ago when she had first met him on board the Enterprise.   
  
"Trip, I love you."   
  
The words seemed to have left her mouth without her realizing it, but once she said it, she felt different. Words poured out of her mouth.   
  
"Please don't leave me Trip." To anyone else her voice would sound calm and void of any emotion, but she could hear the tiny hint of desperation in her words. "I love you. I will always love you." Her voice caught slightly. "I never thought that I would feel as you made me feel. I did not even think I wanted to feel those things. But now I cannot imagine my life without you."   
  
She stood and gently brushed her lips against his. It sent a pleasant sensation through her body. His lips were warm, and for a moment she imagined that she could feel them move against hers. There was nothing, though. He remained unconscious.   
  
"I love you," she said again, this time allowing some of her emotions to creep into her voice.   
  
She wasn't quite sure why she did it, but she lay somewhat awkwardly on the bed beside him. He looked so peaceful that she could almost pretend that he was sleeping.   
  
Of course the doctors and her crewmates--her friends, they were her friends, she realized--were right. It was wrong to keep him alive like this. He would not want to exist like this. Tomorrow she would speak to the doctors about taking him off of life-support.   
  
Until then, though, they would spend one last night together. She kissed him once more and closed her eyes. Tomorrow he would be gone forever, but now she had one more night. 


	2. Daddy's Girl

DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are not mine, all others are.  
  
Author's Note: This is a continuation of my story, "Dying Young," told from their daughter's point of view. Please r/r!  
  
Daddy's Girl  
  
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. My father and I have always been very close. I am definitely my father's daughter, not my mother's. She doesn't understand me at all. My father never completely did either, actually. But he represented everything that I wanted--a normal Human life. My mother has always been cool and aloof, as though she exists slightly removed from the rest of us. My father always assured me that my mother loved me, but I never completely believed him. She never kissed me or hugged me like my father did. She was never loving or affectionate. She has always been unknown to me. For my entire life, I have looked at her and wondered who she was. My father is another matter. He is so open and cheerful. I always felt like I knew him. He never hid himself. But my mother lives a shadowed existence, keeping layers between her and the rest of us.  
  
It scares me to think that he is gone forever, that I will no longer be able to turn to him for love and support. My father's very presence was magical--he had a way of making me feel as if the universe itself smiled upon me. Whenever he was around, the world seemed like a magical, happy place. But now he is gone, and all around me lurk shadows and demons. I can no longer escape the truth that runs through my blood: I am a half-breed. I am abnormal and strange. I am a freak. Those words have taunted me my whole life, but when my father was alive, they disappeared. He did not hear the taunts that followed us wherever we went. He was blind to the stares of passerbys at the strange family: a Human father, a Vulcan mother, and two half-breed children. We were his family and he loved us. Period. That was all that mattered to him.  
  
I have always been more like my mother in that respect. She hears every taunt and every joke at our expense. She cannot ignore the stares that our family receives. She never understood how my father could tune out those things; to them each one was like a phase pistol shot to her heart. And now that my father is gone, I once again notice those things too. I cannot hide from them behind him. His presence can no longer protect me from the isolation that I feel as the first half Human-half Vulcan. Now once more I feel the world push me away, and I do not know how to protect myself from it.  
  
My mind drifts back to an earlier time when I was helpless before the world's cruelty. I was only 14 years old, happy, normal, and ignorant as to why my family was different. Back then I knew that my father was Human and my mother Vulcan, but I could not see why these things were a big deal. I was blissfully ignorant of the arguments that my parents had as to how to raise me and my brother and the stares we received on the street. That peaceful world came to an end when I entered high school, much bigger than the small, sheltered elementary and middle schools I had previously attended. Those were filled with the children of Starfleet officers, and as a result the parents taught their students more consideration of other cultures. I was not even the only non-Human at school--several of the students were the children of diplomats from all over the galaxy. But when I reached high school, everything changed. Suddenly I was in a big school with students from all over San Francisco, most of whom had never seen a Vulcan in person, let alone a half-Vulcan. I was thought of as an object of curiosity, then a weirdo, and finally a freak. In only a few weeks, my peaceful world had been shattered.  
  
Finally I could take no more. Depressed and deranged, I locked myself in the bathroom one night and slit my arm open from my elbow to my wrist. In my frantic state, I had decided that if I could get all of the green blood out of me, I would be a normal Human girl. I fell to the floor crying hysterically as I watched the blood flow out of my arm and onto the white tile floor. Suprisingly, there was no pain, only dizziness that grew until I collapsed on the floor unconscious.  
  
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My father sat in a chair beside my bed, his eyes closed and his head drooping forward. I moved slightly, and his head jerked up. His eyes blinked a few times before focusing on my face. The relief on his face was incredible.  
  
"Lauren, you're awake!" He smiled. "We were so worried about you, honey."  
  
"Daddy..." I said groggily. My arm was sore. I looked down and saw a white bandage covering my entire lower arm. "What happened?"  
  
"I found you in the bathroom bleeding, honey. We got you to the hospital right away, and the doctors say that you're going to be fine."  
  
He grew serious then. "Lauren honey, I want you to promise that you'll never hurt yourself again. Your mother and I love you so much. I can't imagine what we would do without you. If you have problems, you need to talk to us. Killing yourself isn't the answer." He took my hand, and I noticed lines of worry creasing his forehead. "We love you so much, Lauren."  
  
I cried then, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me until I calmed down. I knew then that my father would always be there for me. I recovered in part through talking to a psychologist, first every day, later once a week, then once a month until finally I didn't need to anymore. More important, though, was my father. He supported me and loved me, and that enabled me to get past my depression. I still tried to hide the Vulcan part of me, combing my hair to cover my ears and trying to act as human as possible, but my father's love made it easier for me to face the rejection that occured every day.  
  
And now he's gone, and all I have left is my mother. I love my mother, but she represents the Vulcan world that I want to escape so much. I have been to Vulcan to visit my relatives a few times, and as much as I hated to admit it, the cool, calm, logical culture called to me. The green blood in my veins pulled me towards that lifestyle. On one visit during summer vacation, I even started meditating, and I enjoyed the peace that washed over me as I surrendered my emotions and dove into logic. During that time, I once more experienced serenity. I had stopped pushing away from my Vulcan heritage and discovered that embracing it opened the door to clarity and peace.  
  
And yet even that had to come to an end. Most Humans would not believe me when I tell this, but Vulcans can be just as distrustful, ignorant, and cruel as Humans. One day as I left the meditation room, I overheard some Vulcans about my age talking. At the mention of my name, I instinctively ducked behind a pillar to listen.  
  
The words that they said struck me as though someone had knocked the wind out of me. They spoke of the futility of my search of logic, claiming that the imperfection of my blood rendered me incapable of reaching such a high goal. They spoke harshly of Humans, particularly my father, whom they referred to as an "immature, illogical, irrational creature," and they questioned the sanity of my mother to choose him as a mate. They even speculated as to how my father was capable of satisfying my mother's drive during Pon far, and made obscene comments about me to the effect that my Human blood might make my experience during Pon far more passionate than normal since Humans were such a passionate race.  
  
I waited until they had left before running out of the temple. It was late, and I knew I should return home, but instead I collapsed on the steps of the temple and began to sob. All of my emotions suddenly poured out of me, and I cried for hours. Everything about my family became clear that night, and I cried for all of us. I cried for my father and the strength it must take him to pretend that the horrible things people say about our family don't bother him. I cried for my mother and the internal struggle that had battled since she had married my father, unable of expressing and clinging to her love for him as he did to his love for her. I cried for my brother, facing the same hostile universe that I did. Although he hid his feelings, I knew that we tread the same difficult path. And I cried for myself and my inability to achieve peace under the opposing forces of two very differnt worlds.  
  
After that I gave up my search for peace. Both Earth and Vulcan had rejected me, and I did not know how I could ever know a compromise between the forces inside of me. I stopped looking towards society for a way to balance my Human and Vulcan halves. Instead I hid behind my father, letting his strength shield me from the outside. I tied my existence to him so that his strength could be mine. And now he is gone, and I find myself alone in a hostile world with no place to turn.  
  
My father died today, and with him died a part of me. I don't know how I can go on without him. I am pulled between two worlds. No matter how hard I fight, I can't ignore the emotions that surge through my body, or the green blood that runs through my veins. But both worlds reject me, and I float forever between them, struggling to find a place to call home. My father used to be that safe haven for me, but now he is gone. And so I keep floating, keep searching, keep looking for a place to belong. 


End file.
